


The Wayward Sons

by profoundlycas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Multi, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profoundlycas/pseuds/profoundlycas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1995. Sam and Dean are 12 and 16, and out getting ice cream with their parents. They had no idea terror was right around the corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a WIP
> 
> yes, i knowwww, no one wants to read a WIP lol sorry

A trip to the ice cream place in their small town of Joplin was always a treat for Sam and Dean. John and Mary would take them on special occasions: the boys passed a test at school, work promotions, or sometimes just because. Tonight, they needed no occasion and they strolled home happily. John and Mary listened to the boys chatter about school, even if Dean only spoke to call his little brother a nerd. Dean wasn't too big on school. He would rather help his dad work on the car or wander through the woods alone. Sammy, though; oh, Dean knew his brother would go far in life. At just 12, he should be able to test out of seventh grade next year. He wants to be some sort of hotshot scientist and Dean sometimes pictures him in a lab coat and goggles for a cheap laugh if he's feeling down.The boys had fallen behind their parents when Sam had to stop to explain why a covalent bond is necessary in life. They jogged to catch up and turned the corner just after their parents and immediately dropped their ice cream cones to the ground.

A man had John pinned to the wall of the dollar store in the back alley they took as a shortcut everyday. Mary was already on the ground in a heap, her hand glued to her chest with the stickiness of her own blood. Sam crouched down in front of her, on knee ending up in the blood that was seeping out of her chest and pooling between her outstretched legs.

"Mom! Fuck. Mom!" Sam was panicking, he couldn't help it. He turned, tears streaming down his face, to look up at Dean and saw the absolute rage in his brother's eyes.  
Dean was staring at the man who had a knife to his dad's throat. The man had dark eyes, so brown, they looked black. 

 

Sam looked at the man, his face was burned into his brain. He would never be able to forget his face.

"Dean," His mother's voice was hoarse, her eyes were glassy, as blood rolled down the corners of her mouth. "Keep your brother safe, no matter what happens."

"We can't leave you guys!" Sam's eyes welled up with tears as he added pressure to the wound, just like he had read about, and sniffled. "We'll get help, it'll be ok."

"Dean, Sam, listen to me." Mary wheezed out as the boys looked at her. "We love you so, so, very much. Don't you ever forget that."

John tried struggling free but the assailant slit his throat, Sam yelled as the man ran away, Dean rushed to his dad's side. Mary struggled to get up and staggered towards John, how she managed it was a feat in itself, and gripped his hand tightly. Sam rushed over to his family, tears streaming down his face.

"Dean..." John was choking on his own blood, there was just so much of it, looked at his son holding him in his arms. "G-go to the p-police...most i-im-importantly keep you...and y-your b-b-brother safe."

"Shit, don't talk like that dad, you and mom are gonna be ok." Dean fought back the tears, looking at the man he respected most. "Please don't go."

"We need you, please stay." Sam sobbed as he hugged them, not caring about their blood getting on his clothes. "Please, mom and dad."

"Dean, your dad and I love you both, we're so proud of you." Mary's voice was growing quieter by the second. "Don't ever doubt that for even a moment."

"Your m-mom's ri-right." John choked out. "We love you guys..so proud..."

 

Dean watched as his parents took their final breaths, the light draining from their eyes. Sam hugged his brother, crying out for their parents to come back. His whole world shattering into millions of pieces, he closed their eyes before holding Sam close despite Sam's screams for his mom and dad.

During the whole commotion, someone heard Sam's wails, and soon the sound of sirens filled the night sky. 

That was the night the Winchester brothers not only lost their parents but their entire world. In that moment Dean knew nothing was ever going to be the same again, but he would keep Sam safe no matter what happened.

The following two hours were the longest in Dean's life. He couldn't count how many times he had been asked what happened, what exactly he saw, and what he remembered about the asshat who did this. Truth is, Dean could probably pick the guy out of a crowd, but the guy didn't deserve to just rot in jail. Eventually, Sam and Dean were released to the care of Bobby, who was practically their uncle with as long has John and Bobby had been friends. 

Once at Bobby's, the boys claimed their rooms, across the hall from each other. Sam lasted 20 minutes before quietly walking into Dean's room and curling up on the floor. Dean was too tired and figured he could just ask about it in the morning if Sam wanted to talk about it.  
Dean woke up and Sam was already downstairs at the kitchen table. "Morning, Dean! Bobby said I can stay home from school this week."

"Shouldn't be a problem since you're gonna test out anyway," he ruffled his hair like he knew annoyed the little twerp.

"Morning boys," Karen, Bobby's sweet wife, spoke softly and gave a gentle smile. She walked into the kitchen, hand resting on her small baby bump. "What do you want for breakfast? I'll make you whatever you want."

 

Dean watched with a little smile, it was sweet to see them happy. He was pretty happy for them, despite the loss of his parents, because they had been dreaming of starting a little family for a while. He actually liked the idea of having a cousin, he'd teach them how to be cool.

 

"You're not lifting a finger," Bobby followed behind her, kissing her cheeks, as his eyes crinkled while he smiled with pure adoration. "I'll cook breakfast."

"Bobby Singer, I'm pregnant not bedridden. The doctor said it was fine for me to do this kinda stuff." Karen rolled her eyes affectionately as booped his nose. "Let me do this."

"I'm helping you." Bobby was a bit stubborn sometimes. "That's final."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with you." Karen just scoffed in a teasing fashion before returning her attention to the boys. "So what do you guys want?"

"I'm fine with anything...Sammy, what do you want?" Dean looked at his brother with a faint smile. "You get to pick this time."

"Pancakes and bacon!" Sam grinned widely, he seemed to be handling it better than Dean had expected. "Is that ok, aunt Karen?"

"Sure thing, sweetie." Karen ruffled his hair before placing a kiss on top of his head. "I'll even make my world famous chocolate chip pancakes!"

"Yes! You make the best chocolate chip pancakes!" Sam cheered, not noticing that Dean was looking at him. "Thank you, aunt Karen!"

Dean smiled. He loved seeing Sammy so happy. As if, for the little sliver of time, all the horrible shit that had happened was out of his mind. Realizing Karen was starting preparations, he got the bacon out of the fridge and walked over to turn on a burner. "Sammy doesn't like his bacon very crispy; I'll make his."

Karen smiled. "You're a really good brother, Dean."

"Heh. Yeah, well, the kid deserves something good in his life." Dean's smile faltered as he fumbled with opening the package, finally just angrily stabbing it with a knife.

A couple of days later found Dean in the salvage yard after dinner. Some guy had called looking to get a tail light fixed and Dean knew of another Buick in the lot with one still intact. 

Sam was in the small office of the garage as the man pulled in his vehicle as Bobby directed him. As the man started to get out, Sam caught a glimpse at his face.

No. It can't be. 

Sam ran out the door, the bell flying off the handle and hitting his shoe as he ran. When he finally spotted Dean leaned over behind the Buick, he was a bit out of breath.

"Sam? I've almost got this out. Tell Bobby I'll just be a couple more minutes."

Sam was bent over, hands on his knees. He shook his head as his lungs finally caught up. "No. Dean. He's here. The guy. The one th-that killed mom and dad. It's him."

 

Dean tensed up, the tool fell out of his hand and clattering to the ground, and slowly turned towards Sam.

"What?" His voice was low, something about his presence change. "Are you certain?"

"Mhm, a hundred percent." Sam finally managed to catch his breath. "It's him for sure. What are we gonna do? I'm scared Dean."

"Don't you worry, it'll be ok, I'll make sure of it." Dean picked up the fallen tool, his voice sent a chill down Sam's spine, and turned it over a few times. "Sammy, I'm gonna need you to do exactly what I tell you to do...can you do that?"

"Of course, Dean." Sam was a little confused about what his brother was planning but he'd help out regardless. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go grab some rope, a hunting knife, blowtorch, and that lead pipe near the Ford truck...the blue one. Quickly." Dean looked at his brother with a gentle expression. "Can you do that for me, Sammy?"

"Got it! I'll be right back." Sam nodded before blotting off. "Why would Dean need all this?" Sam wondered to himself, coming to the conclusion his brother must have a good reason.

 

Dean watched his brother leave, once he was certain that Sam was gone he let out a string of colorful curses that would make a sailor blush. 

He was going to make that man hurt, hurt like he had hurt Sam and himself. He would make sure that bastard suffered, make him wish he had never been born.

That monster took away his and Sam's innocence, so Dean would take something away from him. The only thing that would come even close to a fair trade was the man's life.

Dean had let these malicious thoughts brew for several days, going over various ways he'd do it, but tonight he'd actually act on those thoughts.

He knew that it wouldn't bring their parents back or the life they had prior to that day, but he'd sure as Hell take pleasure in making sure the man could never do harm again.

"Dean, Mr. Randal will be back here to check if it's the right part." Bobby had stopped by the Buick, he was carrying a few spare parts. "Help him out if he needs anything, alright?"

"Sure thing, Bobby." Dean faked a very convincing smile. "I'll make sure he's well taken care of."

Bobby just nodded before heading off to the small office in the garage.

Sam came back, arms filled with what Dean had asked for, and looked at his brother expectantly.

 

"Where do I put this stuff?" Sam walked up to Dean. "I found everything you asked for."

"Put them off to the side for right now, you did good." Dean ruffled Sam's hair before crouching to his eye level. "Sam, what I'm gonna do isn't gonna be pretty but I need you to understand that it's for a good reason."

Dean never called him just 'Sam' unless it was something serious. The younger boy looked at his brother with a worried expression.

"What are you gonna do?" Sam searched his brother's face for any sign as to what he was planning. "Why isn't gonna be pretty?"

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch." Dean stated bluntly, he was never was one to sugarcoat things. "I'm not gonna let him ruin other people's lives."

 

Sam blinked several times, processing what had been said, and looked at Dean with a determined expression. 

"I wanna help." Sam had a look that made it clear the decision wasn't up for debate. "He...can't walk away free...he'll do more bad."

Dean sighed deeply, he had had a sneaking suspicion that Sam would want to be involved, before exhaling slowly.

 

"Alright, but you have to do as I tell you." Dean stood up slowly, patting Sam on the head, and gave a gentle smile. "And if I tell you to look away...do it."

"Ok, Dean, I promise." Sam was a little excited about the whole thing but managed to keep his cool. "He'll be here any minute."

"Go hide until I say come out." Dean looked at the various tools in the toolbox. "I'll knock him out then we'll move on from there."

Sam just nodded before doing as he was told. Dean removed the taillight, now he just was waiting.

They heard the man approach as he spoke up, "Alright, kid, let's see this tail light. I ain't got all night."

Dean took a step forward, the lead pipe in his right hand. "Oh, I think you've got plenty of time, mister." 

Before the man could block it, the pipe connected with the side of his head and he hit the ground. 

Dean smirked at Sam. "Out like a light. Always toldja I've got an arm on me. Come on, grab the rope 'fore he comes to."

Sam came out of the shock of seeing his brother knock a grown man out, grabbed the rope, and helped Dean restrain the man. Sam took care of his feet while Dean turned him on his side to tie his hands behind his back.

Once the man was back face up, Dean turned to Sam. "See, now he can't flail his arms around while he gets what's comin' to him."

Sam swore he thought he saw some drool as Dean eyed the blowtorch. "What are you gonna do, Dean?"

As the man came to again, Dean walked a circle around him, grinning. "Well hello again, Mr. Randal. How ya feelin'?" 

Mr. Randal looked around as he realized he was restrained. "What the hell's going on?" He spotted Sam, standing by, looking a bit nervous. "Kid! Go get help! You gotta help me!"

"Not gonna do you any good to yell like that... except give me a headache." Dean sealed the guy's mouth with duct tape from the toolbox. "Ah, much better. You want the first cut, Sammy?" He looked at his little brother, who just shook his head.

Dean knelt down so the man could see him better. "Do you remember us, Mr. Randal?"

The man shook his head as he released a muffled cry.

"Do you remember a blonde woman and a dark-haired man? Outside the store? Two kids with 'em?"

The man's eyes grew wide.

"That's right, Mr. Randal," Dean smirked. "Gotta say, I like it better this way around."

 

Mr. Randal began squirming around as Dean ran the tip of the hunting knife along his jaw, enough pressure to raise welts but not enough to draw blood.

"I'm not gonna lie, I could have turned you into the police...back when they questioned us but," Dean cut the man's cheek, smirking at the muffled scream. "You would just end up rotting in jail, most likely would be put on parole. That was too good for you though."

 

Dean stabbed the hunting knife into Mr. Randal's left shoulder, twisting it around a few times. Mr. Randal's screams were still muffled by the tape, Sam just watched with mild curiosity.

"So during the last few days, I let my thoughts brew. Let me tell you, they were malicious in light terms." Dean explained more to the man. "I started to think about it more and more."

 

Dean pointed to the pipe, Sam just nodded before handing it to his brother.

"And when Sammy told me you were here, let me tell you; I wasn't going to let you leave this place alive." Dean gripped the pipe tightly before bringing it down on the man's right knee, Sam closed his eyes before the pipe made impact. "I was going and still am going to make your last moments on earth a living Hell."

Sam winced at the sounds of bones being broken, the man's screams still kept going. It wasn't until Dean nudged him did he tell his eyes, he looked at the man: he was bloodied and bruised. He wasn't even sure how much time had passed, it must have been a while. 

The strangest thing happened to Sam: he didn't feel sickened by the sight before him. Nothing about this situation bothered him, he knew that it should have but it didn't.

"Sammy, I think we should sterilize the wounds." Dean smiled gently at the younger boy. "What do you want to do?"

"Umm...ask him why he did it?" Sam blurted out, Dean had caught him off guard with the question. "Why did you kill our mom and dad?"

"I'm gonna remove the tape, you'll answer his question." Dean ripped off the tape, placing his hand over Mr. Randal's mouth. "You will not scream or yell, only answer the question. Are we clear?"

Mr. Randal nodded slowly, he was barely conscious because of the excruciating pain. 

"Good," Dean slowly removed his hand. "Answer him."

"I...I was just after their money." Mr. Randal panted out, he was fading in and out of consciousness. "They didn't have any..."

"Then why kill them!?" Sam snapped, tears threatening to fall. "You could have let them go."

"I don't know...panicked..." The man admitted with a weak shrug. "It's already done."

"Should have thought about what was going to happen." Dean turned on the blowtorch, putting a new piece of tape over Mr. Randal's mouth, and frowned. "Instead of being a no good son of a bitch."

Dean held the blowtorch near the man's opened wounds, searing them shut, not even phased by the scent of burning flesh. Sam flinched at first, watching the skin become burnt, while Mr. Randal screamed in muffled agony.

But Dean didn't stop just there, he ripped out the hunting knife and sliced Mr. Randal's throat without an ounce of regret. Blood splattered onto both of the boys, Dean turned the blowtorch off.

Little did the boys know that Bobby had come to check on them, he had wondered what had taken them so long, and watched the whole thing go down.

"What did you just do?" Bobby asked, though he had heard and seen everything. "Why did you do this?!"

"That sorry son of a bitch was the one who killed mom and dad!" Dean glared at the corpse, clenching his fists tightly. "If we let him go, he would have killed more people. I wasn't gonna let that happen."

"You know I can't just see all this and trust you boys to get everything taken care of before someone comes looking for that S.O.B. C'mon, I'll help you two clean everything up and hide whatever we need to. Everything will be alright, boys."

"Why are you helping us?" Sam looked at Bobby with a raised eyebrow. "We just killed someone...shouldn't you turn us in?"

"Bobby, did you find the...boys." Karen looked at the whole scene before her and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What happened?"

"I'll explain later. Boys, I can already tell you'll do this again. So with that in mind I have a code if you will." He looked at the brothers and exhaled slowly. "Never kill anyone innocent, only kill the lowest of the low. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes, Bobby."

"Good, because after all this is taken care of, you'll be getting a crash course on this code." Karen placed a hand on her hip. "Can't have you making rookie mistakes or straying from this code."

And thus began the fall of 1995. The first killing season for the Winchester brothers.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby stood at the kitchen sink, the water as hot as he could stand. Once the mixture of blood and dirt finally ran clear, he took a breath and began thinking about the discussion he was going to have with the boys. He knew they would understand easily, that they can’t just go around killing just anyone. The hard part would be explaining who was worth the trouble.

Karen sat at the kitchen table, a leather worn journal in front of her, and saw the boys had cleaned themselves up just as Bobby had instructed. Bobby joined his wife at the table, hands still red from the scalding water used to wash the blood and dirt away.

"Boys, take a seat." Karen spoke with a gentle but firm voice. "We have a lot to discuss."

The boys sat across from her, seeming a little nervous about what the discussion would hold.

"We need to be honest with you," Bobby exhaled slowly, choosing his next words carefully. "Your parents weren't the people you thought they were, neither is Karen nor myself."

"What do you mean?" Sam looked at the two with confusion. "Who were they then?"

"They were killers, just like Karen and myself, well until Mary found out she was pregnant with you, Dean." Bobby explained as he looked at the boys. "We all used to kill as a group, but we had a code we lived by."

"Wait, hold up. You're telling me that our mom and dad were killers and you and aunt Karen were too?" Dean looked at Bobby a little doubtful. "That's ridiculous."

"He's not lying, Dean, it's very much true." Karen sighed softly, rubbing her stomach. "Why else would we have been so calm about you two killing someone or for that matter how to get rid of the body and any evidence?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak before closing it, letting the information sink in. He looked back throughout his life, things started to make sense; constant moving, self defense lessons, the hunting trips, how to pick any lock, and so much more. His parents were raising them to be killers without even realizing it.

"So they killed people..." Sam was taking this a lot better than Dean. "So how does this code work?"

"First rule is to never get caught, don't leave anything that could connect you to the crime." Karen opened the journal, sliding across for the boys to see. "Never get caught in the act. That journal goes more in depth about each rule. We're giving you a summary of the rules."

"Second rule is never kill an innocent person. Be thorough when picking your target, learn what you can about them." Bobby points to the second rule in the journal. "Only go after the scum of society. For example if they were a sex offender or a murderer, even if they were never convinced, they are ok to kill."

"Never, under any circumstances, cause a scene. Avoid drawing attention to yourself as much as possible." Karen leaned back in her chair, still rubbing her stomach. "Fake emotions, reactions, and normality in order to fit in."

"Never get emotionally involved. If in the case you have to take a psychology personality test," Bobby paused for a moment, giving the boys a stern look. "Always answer the question opposite of what you feel."

 

Dean and Sam exchanged looks before nodding slowly, they flipped through the pages of the journal. It was filled with in-depth instructions on how to kill - different styles, from as simple as the classic strangling to something more complex, such as making it look like a suicide.

"Starting tomorrow we'll be teaching you how to kill properly." Karen stood up slowly and gave a gentle smile. "You'll be taking on the family business; hunting people, ending lives."

Dean was laying in bed, listening to Sam toss and turn on the floor. He sighed, "Sammy, get up here. You'll have the back of an 80-year-old man if you keep sleeping on the damn floor." He scooted toward the cold wall to make room for his growing little brother.

Sam slid under the covers and stared at the ceiling despite Dean looking at him. "What's up, squirt? Nervous for your placement test this week?"

"Dean, you haven't called me that since I was, like seven. And yeah, I guess so."

"Yeah, well, you're always my li'l squirt."

Sam just sighed. "I miss them, Dean."

"Yeah... Me too, Sammy."

Sam had wormed his way into Dean's arms, his head laying on his chest. "Remember that time we tried to make family game night a regular thing?" He laughed a little. "You and dad got so competitive, you almost broke the Monopoly board."

"Hey, fuck that game, okay? No one likes it and it shouldn't even exist. There's too many rules and shit." Dean defended himself and his late father while absentmindedly running his fingers through Sammy's hair.

"Okay, true, but what about that time we played CandyLand?"

Dean chuckled, "Eh, I just felt like being a dick because you were winning and then I got sent back to Peppermint Forest."

"Oh yeah! And then mom ended up winning...like she always did."

"I'm pretty sure she always cheated..."

Sam giggled. "Yeah, sure Dean. I'm pretty sure it's okay to admit your defeat, now that there's no one to even argue with anymore."

Dean huffed a laugh that soon became silence. He felt a hot tear hit his chest followed by Sam sniffling. "Oh, Sammy, hey. Hey, look at me, squirt." Dean gently grabbed Sam's chin and tilted it up, pained by the tears he found in the hazel eyes.

"I just miss them so much, Dean..." Sam buried his face in his big brother's neck as he let a sob fall out of his mouth. 

Dean rubbed Sam's lower back, just like he used to do when Sam was small and had a bad dream. His hand faltered as he felt the timid lips on his chest. His other fingers faltered in Sam's hair as he waited to see if he had maybe just imagined it. Then he felt it again and Sam slowly looked up to him.

"Sammy."

Sam leaned forward slowly as his hand slid up his brother's stomach to land right over his heart. "Dean. You're all I have." He placed a kiss on Dean's collarbone, which caused Dean to shudder. 

"Sammy, look at me. Tell me you don't want this. I'll stop."

"I kissed you first, you moron." Sam giggled as he leaned up and placed a kiss on his brother's lips.

Dean's arms wrapped around his little brother tighter, as they kissed. Soft at first, escalating to sloppily exploring each other's mouths with their tongues. Dean could feel Sam's little prick twitch as his hand slid over his ass.

Summertime brought suntanned skin and wandering hands. This also brought an internal struggle for Dean.

Sam cornered Dean in the den. His hands easily found Dean’s hips as his lips found his neck. 

Dean pushed him away, “Sam, quit it, c’mon.”

Sam’s face fell, before taking on a mischievous look. He pressed his body against Dean again as he huffed out a chuckle. “Funny, Dean.”

Dean pushed him away again. “I’m serious, Sammy; get!”

Sam look defeated before he was taken over by anger. “What the hell? You were fine with this yesterday!”

“Yeah, well, I was just horny yesterday. You’re just a kid!”

“I’m thirteen!”

“Exactly! We can’t do this, Sam.”

Sam’s anger boiled over to rage. “Ya know what? Fuck you, Dean. You can’t just choose when you want to be all high and mighty!”

“God dammit! Just go do your damn homework!”

Sam stomped out of the room, a blaring reminder of how much of a child he still is.

Dean groaned into his hands, he was in way over his head. He knew full well that his feelings for his brother were wrong, frowned upon by society.

He did love Sam, more than just a brother, but it just didn't feel right to have an intimate relationship with a child.

 

"Damn..." Dean sighed deeply before pushing himself up and knocked on their, his, bedroom door. "Sammy, open the door...we need to talk."

"What do you want?" Sam cracked the door open a little, trying his best to look upset with Dean. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Sammy...look, I love you, way more than just a brother. I want you, like no one's business..." Dean rubbed his neck, talking about feelings had never been his strong suit. "But I'm just not okay with doing this while you're still a kid, though you're mature for your age, so I'm asking you to just wait."

"How long would I have to wait?" Sam opened the door a little more. "What would we be able to do until then?"

"Until you're eighteen, I know that's a long time but five years will go by quickly." Dean assured, hesitantly caressing Sam's cheek, and sighed deeply. "Small stuff like kissing is okay…”

“W-what if I want more?”

Sam always was an insistent little shit. Dean sighed, “No, Sammy. It’s this or nothing at all.”

Sam slumped his shoulders a bit, but opened the door all the way. “Okay. Yeah, okay, I can deal with the waiting. You’re worth it.”


End file.
